I Bet My Life
by The Misty Jewel
Summary: Bilbo swallowed. "Well, we all know they're more important. Out of everyone here, I contribute the least -I mean- you could make it without a burglar." -PreSlash fic, inspired by the new song by Imagine Dragons, "I Bet My Life". Thilbo fluff!


**AN- Ignore Gandalf having disappeared. He's being a wizard, which means conveniently not being at hand when an opportunity for Bagginshield should arise.**

**~o0O0o~**

**I Bet My Life**

Bilbo's feet were starting to ache. And that was saying something. The trek up the Misty Mountains was harsh, the rocks cutting into Bilbo's feet unlike anything in the Shire.

Another thing: Hobbits hated cold weather. It's not like they would die from it, or anything close, but they were like humans in the fact that they would shiver, and be generally uncomfortable in the cold.

...And apparently dwarves weren't like that. Thorin and company trudged through the snow and hail as if made for it, which, thought Bilbo, they probably were.

He had a coat on, and he'd remain warm enough, he supposed, but the problem was his feet.

He didn't have shoes. Which was obvious for a hobbit, but again, it differed with dwarves.

And hobbit feet did NOT fare well in cold weather. His feet had gone numb a while ago, and he'd lost feeling in his toes a few hours previously.

Bilbo hugged his coat around him tighter and shivered, hoping desperately that the coat would help his feet get warmer, when all logic dictated otherwise.

He put his head into the cold and ploughed on, but accidently ran straight into one of the company, who had halted.

"Oh, sorry-" Bilbo snapped to the present as he realized they'd stopped ahead of their normal schedule. "Balin, why've we stopped?" Bilbo asked, trying to look in front of him, but being blinded by the wind in his face.

"It appears we've reached a ledge." Balin sighed. "Thorin wanted the quickest way through the mountains, and this is what he gets for it. Dangerous terrain and a blizzard that could kill Smaug himself."

Bilbo nodded, inwardly rolling his eyes at their leader's stubbornness. "Thanks, Balin." He stepped up to be side by side with the other dwarves in front of him, looking at them before inspecting the ledge jutting downward to an isolated groove in the rock below.

Well this was going to be hard.

He glanced at Thorin, standing the closest to the edge, already swearing at the newfound obstacle like it hadn't been _his_ fault they took the most dangerous path.

Bilbo sighed and shut his eyes. He just wanted to get to a warm place to regain feeling in his feet.

Thorin pointed at something, which the rest of the group inspected silently. Even Fili and Kili weren't making jokes, the blizzard having drained them all of their energy.

Bilbo couldn't hear everything being said.

Thorin: "The groove in the rock- -a good place to camp- -to get down there."

Balin, who had walked up to consult with Thorin: "But that way- -a bit dangerous to climb- -could always backtrack."

Thorin shook his head, and muttered something that was lost to the blizzard completely. He pointed again at the ledge, and Bilbo's eyes fixed on what they must be talking about; a part of the ledge with small indents which might be usable as footholds.

The color left in Bilbo's cheeks drained away, leaving him pale. He had never liked heights, and now, with numb feet, how could he manage to climb down, not being able to feel where the footholds were?

Balin offered another idea that Bilbo couldn't hear, and Thorin denied it, again his voice lost to the storm.

This just kept getting better and better.

Thorin tried to give reasons when Balin glared at him. "We could- -I see a small cave down there- -we'll camp there since the storm-"

Bilbo tried to puzzle what the conversation was going on about. Thorin seemed to want to camp in a cave under the ledge, but Balin didn't want to risk the climb.

Something along those lines. Bilbo didn't know, and, to be honest, didn't really care. He was just cold, and he wanted to get wherever they were going as fast as possible.

Thorin seemed to have won the argument. Balin glared at him one last time, obviously muttering a few choice words on his way back to the rest of the company. Bilbo leaned toward Balin as he came to a stop in the crowd of dwarves.

"What're we doing about this, then?" Bilbo asked as politically as possible.

Balin huffed. "Well, you can hear that from our _brilliant_ leader himself, if you want."

Bilbo swallowed uneasily, his throat dry. Wasn't it funny, how your throat could be dry in the midst of so much water, everywhere?

Thorin stepped closer to the group, and they drew into a close knit circle, trying to expel the cold. Bilbo grinned a bit; The dwarves, the ones who were supposed to be _unaffected_ by the cold, were cold. What had the world come to.

Thorin yelled to make himself heard, cupping his hands around his mouth. The wind was gradually speeding up. "We're going to climb down the ledge and camp out underneath it! I noticed a few caves and we can rest there for the night, until the storm passes over!"

A few dwarves nodded, and others looked uneasy. It seems Bilbo wasn't the only one with a fear of heights.

Thorin motioned for them to follow him to the point of the ledge with indentations, the ones which would soon act as their footholds. "We're using these to climb down. Fili, secure a rope up here, but everyone will also need to keep their footholds steady or else they'll fall."

Bilbo looked around at the others. Everyone seemed mildly concerned, but not outright scared, and nowhere _near_ the situation Bilbo was in.

He shook his head. He'd just have to deal with it. He couldn't slow the group down any more than he already had, and the idea of finding a place to start a fire sounded like the nicest thing in the world.

He could _not_ delay that fire. It was too good of a dream come true.

He tried wiggling his toes.

No response.

He tried to stretch his ankles more than a few centimeters either way.

No response.

He would be fine.

Fili secured the rope on a rock jutting out of the snow, and the rest of the company began descending slowly. There was one close call with Bombur, but nothing bad came of it, and the dwarf made it down alright.

Bilbo and Kili remained up on the ledge. Kili motioned to him. "Well, go ahead Bilbo. I'll be the last one down since you're looking the coldest out of this group."

Bilbo nodded, too tired to argue or delay the inevitable. He found his footing in the rough stone, and began the descent.

It wasn't that bad, altogether. The footholds were deep into the rock, and spaced closely enough.

The problem came a bit farther than halfway down the cliff face, when the footholds began to get shallower. Soon Bilbo could only use his toes to keep himself from falling.

The rope helped, but he knew he couldn't depend upon it completely, and when he looked down he was met with a wave a nasea.

Kili called down to him. "Alright there, Bilbo?"

Bilbo nodded weakly. "Just looked down, is all." He voiced his fear for once.

Kili nodded understandingly. "I know what that's like. Just take a deep breath, don't think about it."

Bilbo's hands shook, from either cold or fear, or maybe both. He followed Kili's idea and took a deep breath, took his foot out from it's foothold to find the next one below it, and-

-slipped-

-and grabbed at the rope as fast and hard as he could-

-and fell into the snow below as the rope slipped through his hands, his fingers being too cold to grip the lifeline properly.

**~o0O0o~**

It hadn't been that bad of a fall, when he came to reflect upon it. He'd been over halfway down the cliff face, and the snow below had acted as a cushion.

That being said, it had not been a pleasant experience either. He hadn't been knocked out, and to be honest, it hadn't been the fall that had hurt him the most, but the blistering, horrifying _cold, _which was _everywhere around him_ as he lay on the ground.

Kili shouted something and descended the ledge as fast as possible in an effort to help Bilbo, despite having just seen an example of what happen to people who went down the ledge too fast.

The others rushed to the snow where he'd landed and dug him out, about 5 different hands brushed snow off him, another 7 holding him upright in his dazed state of mind, and about 12 different mouths asking if he was okay, all in different ways.

Bilbo just clenched his eyes closed and waited for the sea of well intentioned questions to stop.

Kili, who had gotten down the ledge by now, was the first to ask a coherent question. "Bilbo, are you alright?" Genuine concern was in every word.

Bilbo nodded. He hated being the one member of the company that had trouble with something- each person was that member in some way or another -but it didn't help when _he_ was that person.

Each dwarf burst out, voicing their concerns, and Bilbo yelled to be heard over them. "Yes, yes! I'm fine!" He stressed the last bit. He hated people wondering if he was okay.

Balin took a rag from his pocket, one of the pieces of cloth not yet completely covered in frost. "Are you sure you're alright, lad?" He asked, worriedly. He brought the rag up to Bilbo's forehead, and when brought away, it was red.

"Oh." Bilbo let out his breath, shocked. "I hadn't realized- I must be numb-"

Kili jumped into the conversation with his typical lack of finesse. "I'm sorry to interrupt the revelation that Bilbo is actually hurt for once, instead of being incredibly lucky, but we should get him into the cave before we all freeze to death."

Balin sighed. "Right, right, of course." He began toward where the cave must've been.

Bilbo started to follow, holding a hand to his head while the pain began to trickle into existence.

He was too dazed to notice Thorin still looking at the patch of snow where he'd fallen, the spot where his head had hit the rock, a thin layer of red covering the frost there.

The blood trickled down his wrist and stained his sleeve, but he didn't care right now. If he could just get to a fire, everything would be fine.

The dwarves laid down a couple blankets to sit on instead of the hard stone, and Bilbo gladly accepted an invitation to one, despite still bleeding profusely over it.

"You're going to need to bandage that up, halfling." Thorin's voice called from the cave entrance, as he wandered in. Fili and Kili glanced at each other, as if conversing telepathically.

"What?" Bilbo asked them.

Kili coughed. "What Thorin said, let's get you bandaged up."

Bilbo looked at them suspiciously. The two obviously knew, or at least had a clue, about something he didn't.

Bilbo let the dwarves bandage up his head instead of doing it himself. He knew it was pointless anyway- they were all for one, and one for all, and it appeared he was the "one" mentioned in the former of the saying.

Bilbo sighed. Even if today had been horrible, the night was a welcomed relief; rest (He was already sleepy, but he couldn't tell if it was from blood loss or actually tiredness), food (A stew that would be named the worst in the Shire, but was a king's feast out here), warmth (He could feel the pain in his toes now), and a break (from trudging through the blizzard).

He closed his eyes and the world dissolved into the haze of sleep.

**~o0O0o~**

Something woke him, but he could never be sure what when he looked back. He'd been warm, fed, and tired, (In other words, everything one needed to be to sleep soundly) and yet he woke up anyway.

The first thing that hit him was the quiet. The blizzard had stopped.

The second realization was that the fire had died down, and it was colder now.

The third was that Thorin hadn't woken another person to guard to camp while they slept, unlike what he must have promised everyone when he chose to be first shift.

It was more than halfway through the night, and Thorin was still up, doing his job? Bilbo wondered. How insane could the dwarf be? He'd fall asleep in the morning and be useless the rest of the day.

He grudgingly left the comfort of his sleeping roll and walked toward the mouth of the cave, where Thorin stood.

"Why haven't you woken another person to take watch?" Bilbo asked sleepily, not caring if Thorin was in a bad mood or not.

"I am fine to keep watch for the whole night, halfling." Thorin glanced at him, the icy gaze staring at the red spot seeping through the bandage on Bilbo's head, before returning to the snowy wasteland surrounding them.

Bilbo looked out at the land. It was remarkably calm now that the storm had blown over. "You _should_ let someone else take the watch for the night, Thorin. I could, if you want."

Thorin smiled. "Out of the two of us, you're the one that needs to rest more, Bilbo. A head wound like that is nothing to laugh about."

The hobbit rolled his eyes. "Thorin, I'm fine. You can go sit by the fire and I can keep watch for at least an hour."

"You fell a distance that was easily deadly if not for the snow, and you say you're fine?"

Bilbo frowned. Thorin was always stubborn, but never _this_ stubborn. If he disagreed with something petty like this, he would keep it to himself usually.

He sighed. "Yes, Thorin, I am _fine_. At least it wasn't Fili or Kili, or one of the others who got hurt."

Thorin looked over at him. "What do you mean by that?" The gaze returned to the arctic area outside the cave again.

Bilbo swallowed. "Well, we all know they're more important. Out of everyone here, I contribute the least -I mean- you could make it without a burglar."

Thorin seemed to go silent at this remark, his eyes, which had previously surveyed the land constantly, locking onto one object of the distance and staying there.

Bilbo looked at the dwarf, not quite understand what had happened.

"Thorin, are you alright?" Bilbo asked him, resisting the urge to back away slowly from what appeared to be a live bomb.

Thorin closed his eyes. "Bilbo, do you honestly think you're useless?" His voice sounded a bit pained for some reason.

Bilbo shrugged. "I don't believe I'm useless, but I know I'm not as useful as the others here."

Thorin sighed. "And so you think that it would be best -if you got hurt- out of everyone?"

"I suppose so."

"You realize that's not true, right?"

Bilbo studied Thorin like he had lost his mind. "Of course it's true, Thorin. Logically speaking, I _am_ the least useful person here, meaning it would be easiest if I was the one to get injured." He looked down at the ground.

"Did you ever think that you might be the person I wouldn't want to get hurt the most?" Hesitantly spoken.

Bilbo's eyes shot up to look at Thorin, a guarded expression on his face. "Not especially." He chose his words carefully. "I've always thought you disliked me, to be honest, Thorin."

Thorin frowned slightly. "Halfling, you obviously do not know me well. Anyone who does would know I tend to insult people closest to me more often than others."

Bilbo leaned against the wall of the cave next to Thorin. "Is that so?" A nod. "That's good." Bilbo's reply sounded shocked, even to his own ears. He tried resisting the urge to smile, but couldn't help grinning, as if he wasn't stuck in a cold cave with enemies all around, having just fallen off a ledge.

Thorin smiled warily at Bilbo's reaction. "Go to bed, halfling."

Bilbo took a step back toward the fire. "Only if you trade out with someone for the watch before morning."

Thorin nodded. "Alright then."

The smile Bilbo wore as he went back to sleep could have shown through the blizzard that had tortured the company earlier.

**~o0O0o~**

The next morning, several odd things happened:

One was that Thorin had actually slept for an hour or two.

Another was that Bilbo took some spare clothes and tied them around his feet, creating a makeshift pair of boots.

The third odd occurrence was that the dwarves traded bets while Thorin and Bilbo weren't looking.

Because, after all, it had just been a matter of time, hadn't it? And what's to do with a certainty like that, without making a game of it?

**ANOTHER AN- So this is basically the first fic that I've finished within the first week of starting it. o.O what!**

**Anyway, I have to admit, the only reason I actually wrote this is because Imagine Dragons just came out with a new song, "I Bet My Life", and FLASH, inspiration appeared! And also, the only way I actually knew what I was writing was because of my awesome friend Quillinx. :) And even then, I somehow managed to forget to include her prompt quote in the story when it started snaking off somewhere else. XD**

**So I hope you enjoyed. I don't own anything, etc. etc. I wish I did though! Maybe for Christmas this year.**

**Bilbo will throw a party in the Shire if you review!**

**-Misty**


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